


...What's Rage Cage?

by diogenesdarling



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Gen, Peter Parker Drunk, Peter Parker Parties, WHY DID THEY DO THIS, get it together ned and peter, they're not old enough for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 18:57:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11606892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diogenesdarling/pseuds/diogenesdarling
Summary: In which Peter and Ned go to a party, which turns out to be a ~party~, and get a little drunk for the first time in a very nerdy way.Totally unnecessary one-shot.





	...What's Rage Cage?

He hadn’t meant to get drunk. He didn’t actually think he _could_ get drunk with his metabolism, maybe just tipsy. But here he was, in all his glory, smashed out of his mind and trying to figure out how to sit on porch steps without falling over.

 

Peter Parker was officially wasted.

 

To be fair, so was Ned. 

 

The academic decathlon team had been invited to chill with the robotics team, and no one had known the the robotics kids liked to party. They were really good at partying, too. 

 

MJ had raised her eyebrows the moment they all walked in the door of the robotics captain’s house— red solo cups filled an entire table next to the entry way, and someone was pouring beer an inch deep in each cup. EDM was blaring from giant speakers in an entertainment system, and people were chanting “Seven, seven, seven!” from the kitchen. Peter and Ned looked at each other, eyes wide. This was _not_ what they had agreed to.

 

MJ turned around and addressed the team. 

 

“Ok, I did not know that this is what they meant by ‘hang out’, and I think I’ll just stand over here for the rest of the night. Don’t poison yourselves, please. Coach’ll kill me.” And with that, she took a book from her bag, stood against a far wall, and started reading.

 

Flash immediately ran off into the kitchen, whooping as he walked in. People cheered.

 

“Well, they’re obviously all drunk out of their minds,” muttered Ned. Peter smirked, then turned to face his friend.

 

“What do ya wanna do?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know, I don’t think drinking at our age is such a good idea, you know? Brain development and all that.”

 

“Ya, me too. Plus, we’d be in so much trouble if we got caught. Should we just go watch?”

 

Ned shrugged and nodded, and they walked into the kitchen to wait out their time until May came to pick them up in two hours. 

At least eight different bottles of hard alcohol covered the kitchen island, and about fifteen kids were gathered around, throwing back shots, laughing, dancing, and stumbling around. A couple of girls were sitting around a wine bag, giggling hysterically and making faces at each other. 

 

“Peter! Ned! Hiiiiii, I’m so glad you came here!” A girl with lots of bracelets wrapped her arms around their shoulders from behind and hugged them tightly. When she finally let go, they turned to see Alyssa, who sat in front of them in chemistry lab. 

 

“Oh, hey, Alyssa. How ya doing?” Peter asked. She was obviously a few shots in. 

 

“I am so so so good. I’m great! How are you? Oh, ah! MJ!” And she left them and wrapped MJ, who had just crept into the kitchen, in a hug. Peter and Ned didn’t try to hide their laughter.

 

“Um, hey, Alyssa. You should go hug someone else.”

 

“Ok! Have fun!” And Alyssa ran up behind one of her robotics teammates, hugging them tightly.

 

“Yikes…” Ned said under his breath.

 

“I thought you were reading,” Peter said, smirking at MJ.

 

“Ya, well, I saw you losers come in here so I figured it had to be lame. Wanted to witness the tragedy with my own eyes.”

 

They all then stood and watched Flash down two shots of Fireball, one in each hand. A few other members of the decathlon team were starting to join in. 

 

“ANYBODY DOWN FOR RAGE CAGE?” Someone yelled from by the front door. Half a dozen people stampeded out of the kitchen, followed slowly by Peter and Ned.

 

“What’s rage cage?” Peter whispered.

 

“I have no idea, but it doesn’t sound good,” Ned whispered back.

 

“Hey, dummies, it’s a game with beer and ping pong balls,” MJ whispered, directly behind them. They jumped, she laughed.

 

She explained the game to them, apparently her sister was in a sorority in college and had educated her fully on games and tactics for parties, and they watched the game begin. It was a mess. The group playing was all already uncoordinated — the robotics kids had apparently started drinking a while before the decathlon team showed up — and the ping pong balls were bouncing everywhere but where they should have gone, which led to a lot of penalty drinking.

 

By the time the cups were stacked and the fullest cup designated to the loser, everyone was getting really, _really_ loud. People were screaming about their friends, their teachers, their favorite movies, anything that popped into their heads, and the music was getting louder. Peter, MJ, and Ned walked back into the kitchen to get away from all the noise. It was mostly empty now, just a few stragglers coming back for another shot and a couple making out in the corner. Peter could hear their braces clicking together.

 

“So,” Ned drew out the word, looking at MJ, “have you ever tried any of this stuff?” 

 

“Yeah, I’ve tried some stuff. Not a lot, though. Just enough to see what it tasted like.”

 

“And?”

 

“And it’s nasty.”

 

“What have you tried?” Peter joined in.

 

“Why, are you thinking about joining them?”

 

Peter shook his head. Ned nodded.

 

“Dude, what?!” Peter never expected Ned to…no, he had to be joking.

 

“I mean, they look like they’re having a lot of fun…” Ned was looking back out into the living room, where people were dancing terribly.

 

“No, they look like a bunch of idiots,” MJ retorted. Peter agreed with her.

 

“OK, you guys do what you want. I just want to try, like, _one_ shot. I’m a big enough guy, it’s not going to do anything.”

 

“Well,” Peter didn’t really know how to stop him, “what are you going to try?”

 

“Um…” Ned clinked through a few bottles, finally settling on peach vodka. “I’ll bet it tastes way better than the rest of this stuff,” he said.

 

He took a Dixie cup off the counter and poured in the vodka until it hit the halfway point. He lifted it up to his face, sniffed the cup, and nearly gagged.

 

“Ya, it’s disgusting,” said MJ, who was reading again. Peter was staring at Ned in fascination.

 

“Are you really gonna do it?” Peter asked. “Like, seriously?”

 

“Ya, dude. I don’t think this much alcohol is going to be a big deal.” And with that, Ned tipped the cup back to his lips and swallowed. Then he started coughing.

 

“Yech! That’s disgusting!” 

 

“What did I say?” MJ turned a page. “Didn’t use chase,” she added without looking up.

 

“Chase? Oh, I forgot about that!” said Peter. A few gallons of fruit punch and soda were sitting on the other side of the counter.

 

“Thanks a lot for the heads up, MJ.” Ned was pouring Coke into his cup as fast as he could.

 

“No problem.”

 

Peter watched Ned for a few minutes. He was right, nothing happened. Of course nothing happened, it was barely two sips of vodka. Peter was getting curious.

 

“I might try another one.” Ned said, after sitting on a barstool and watching people down the hall play beer pong.

 

“…Yeah?” Peter was eyeing the counter of drinks. 

 

“Yeah. I’m gonna do it.’’ Ned got up and began looking through the drinks again. 

 

“Maybe I’ll try some, too.” Peter said quietly.

 

Ned and MJ stared at him.

 

“Are you kidding?”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

They asked at the same time. Ned’s hand was frozen around a handle of Malibu.

 

“I — ya, I’ll try some.” Peter stood up, grabbing his own cup from the stack. MJ rolled her eyes.

 

“You two are idiots.” 

 

“Peter, what if…you-know-who finds out?” Ned said, almost quiet enough for MJ not to hear.

 

“Who’s you-know-who?” she asked, moving closer.

 

“I thought you were reading, MJ.” 

 

“Yes, I was.”

 

“He means my boss, for my internship,” Peter said, “but I don’t know why he would ever in a million years know or care if I try a sip of alcohol at a party,” he glared at Ned for bringing Spider-Man even remotely into this.

 

“Ok, you’re call.” Ned poured them both some of the rum, and it hit the three-quarter mark this time. “Get your chase ready, dude, it’s probably gonna be just as nasty.”

 

Peter nodded, staring at the drink in his hand. What was he doing? What would May have to say? What _would_ Mr. Stark say if he found out, which he most definitely could, given Peter’s luck? But then Ned’s paper cup was bumping into his, and Ned muttered “cheers”, and Peter threw his drink into his mouth. He let it sit on his tongue for a second too long, nearly choked in surprise at the taste, and slammed juice into his mouth as quickly as possible. His chest burned, and the hairs in his nose prickled, and it felt _awesome_.

 

He and Ned shared a long look, Ned’s arm covering his mouth and wiping away a drop of Coke. 

 

“What do you think?” Ned asked.

 

Peter shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “Pretty chill, I guess.”

 

“…Wanna try another?”

 

A pause.

 

“Sure.”

 

Five shots later, Peter and Ned were standing beside the beer pong table, cheering people on as they threw ping pong balls in helpless trajectories. MJ stood beside them, still pretending to read, and still completely sober.

 

Flash was now shirtless, dancing in the middle of a bunch of people who were ignoring him.

 

The rest of the decathlon team was in various states of sobriety and drunkenness, and the robotics kids were split between drinking games and confessional groups. 

 

Ned was still fine after five shots and now had a beer in his hand to drink for a girl playing beer pong who said she couldn’t take any more.

 

A girl closer to Peter said the same thing a moment later, when a ball landed in a cup near him, and he happily obliged. 

 

“Sure, no problem,” he said smoothly. He picked up the red cup and tilted it back, and pretended to enjoy the drink since the girl was still watching. It tasted worse than the hard liquor.

 

He set the cup down once he’d finished and said something about having to go to the bathroom. Ned followed. So did MJ.

 

“Dude,” Peter said when they were out of earshot, “I thought beer was supposed to taste kinda bad, but that’s terrible! Why do people drink it so much?”

 

“I dunno, I thought it was fine. But the other stuff was way more fun. Want to do more shots?”

 

“More? No, I don’t think so. I’m starting to feel it, I think I should stop.”

 

“No fair, I don’t feel anything! I’ll be back.” Ned walked off to the kitchen.

 

“Hold up, man!” Peter yelled, not wanting to stand awkwardly next to MJ, whose book was covering her face, in the middle of the room.

 

Once in the kitchen, Peter immediately regretted his decision. Flash was there, and once he saw the two of them walk in, Peter knew nothing good would happen.

 

“Hey hey hey, it’s Penis Parker and Ned!” Flash yelled. People cheered. Peter wondered why Ned got to keep his name.

 

“You two up to a drinking game?” Flash yelled, obviously far more drunk than he should have been. The counter seemed to be too impermanent an object for Flash to hold on to.

 

“No, man, we don’t want to—” Peter started, but was interrupted by Ned.

 

“Sure, I’ll take you.” He looked at Peter, mouthed “you don’t have to”, and walked up to Flash.

 

“What’ll it be?” Ned asked. Peter was starting to think maybe Ned was feeling the drinks more than he realized.

 

“Let’s do this decthl’n…style.” Flash was pointing at Peter. “Penis! Come up with the…quiz…tions.”

 

“Um, ok. Ned, are you sure?” Peter asked. Ned glared at him, looking quickly around at all the people starting to surround them.

 

“Yeah, of course I’m sure,” Ned laughed. “Let’s do this.”

 

Peter looked back at MJ, who had disappeared into a breakfast nook but was definitely watching everything.

 

With a sigh, he stepped up to the island where Ned and Flash were standing, one on each side, prepping shots and chase for the game.

 

“Woah, woah, woah, how many questions are you planning?!” Peter asked as Ned kept pouring…and pouring…and pouring.

 

“Let’s say, four questions and a tie breaker, which we won’t need,” Flash said, staring at Ned with glazed eyes. 

 

“Deal,” Ned stuck out his hand. They shook, and then stared at Peter.

 

“Oh, already. Ok. Uh,” he couldn’t think of a single topic. People were staring. His toes felt funny. 

 

“Who introduced the theory of punctuated equilibrium?” Peter turned to see MJ, standing next to him, waiting patiently for an answer to her question.

 

Flash and Ned looked at MJ. The robotics team looked at Flash and Ned. The decathlon kids looked at each other. MJ looked at Peter.

 

“Please tell me at least you know this, since they’re not going to answer,” she said.

 

“…Gould and Eldredge?” Peter asked. MJ nodded. The room exploded.

 

“Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!” They all chanted. Flash and Ned each downed a shot.

 

“I’m not sure…” Flash closed his eyes, “if this game is a good idea…”

 

MJ grabbed Flash’s arm and pushed him into a chair. “It was your idea, dumbass. Don’t drink anymore.”

 

“Peter versus Ned!” Someone yelled from the back of the room. Everyone roared their agreement.

 

“What?” Peter asked no one. He looked at Ned, who had a huge smile on his face. 

 

“Dude, let’s do it! It’d be so fun! I’ll kick your ass!”

 

Peter looked around at everyone — they were all staring directly at him. People rarely did that, in a good way, at least. It felt kind of awesome.

 

Maybe it was the five shots and some of a beer, maybe it was the attention, maybe it was the chance to cream Ned, but whatever it was, it got Peter to agree.

 

And now they were outside, on the porch, both very, very drunk. Four questions had turned into a tie breaker, and they had answered the tie breaker (quite slowly) at the same time, which lead to another tie breaker. Everyone in the room had been eating up every question, crowding around and cheering them on for every shot, and Ned and Peter had eventually stumbled outside for some fresh air. 

 

“Hey dude, hey dude, hey dude,” Ned repeated, poking Peter in the ribs.

 

“What,” Peter laughed, swatting Ned’s hand away.

 

“Who won?”

 

Peter stopped laughing.

 

“I don’t know, who did win?” 

 

“I can’t remember.” Ned stared into the bushes, a somber look on his face.

 

Peter started giggling. “Me either!” 

 

Ned started laughing too, and neither of them could stop.

 

Until Peter’s phone started ringing in his pocket. It was May.

 

“Oh……fuuu—”

 

“Dude, answer it!” Ned cut in, sliding the green button to the edge of the screen. Peter slapped him.

 

“H-Hey, May! How’s it going?”

 

_“Fine, how’s the party?”_

 

Ned started giggling next to him, saying “hey May” over and over again. Peter slammed a hand over Ned’s mouth. Ned licked his palm.

 

“Ew…” Peter whispered, wiping his hand on his jeans. “Um, it’s good, yeah, a good time. Totally chill. You know those…uh…robotics! I mean, robotics kids. They’re all super nice.”

 

_“…Yeah. Well, I’m about five minutes away, so do you want to meet me outside?”_

 

Peter felt all the color drain from his flushed face. There’s no way they could hide this. What were they thinking? He _knew_ May was picking them up, he’d known the exact time and everything! How stupid was he?

 

_“Peter? Are you there?”_

 

“Oh, yeah, hey, I’m…here. Yeah. I’ll see you then in the time when you get here. Five minutes? That’s good. That’s…see you then.” And he hung up the phone.

 

“Dude, this is not good. Not good at all. May’s…knows. She’s gonna know. That we’re drunk.”

 

“We’re not drunk!” Ned replied. He was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling of the porch roof. 

 

“Uh, we’re definitely drunk. Try walking heel-to-toe.”

 

“Ok,” said Ned, and made no move to try just that.

 

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Peter stood up, shifted his sneakers into the gravel walkway, and tried touching the heel of his left foot to the toe of his right. He soon found himself falling back onto the step where he’d been sitting, dizzy, and soon to be dead by the hand of his aunt.

 

_Five minutes is fast in drunk time_ , Peter thought as the headlights of May’s car blinded him and prompted Ned to sit up. They both stood up, very slowly, and smiled at May.

 

“Hi, May! Thanks for…getting us!” Ned yelled.

 

Peter closed his eyes in annoyance, which made him lose his balance again. When he righted himself, he looked up to see May leaning against the car, arms crossed, smirking at them.

 

“So, it was a good party?” she asked, voice as sweet as honey.

 

“You bet. It was a great time, lots of decathlon practice, socializing. You know.” Peter replied, walking slowly toward the car. He wanted to help Ned, who was having a much harder time, but couldn’t risk it.

 

“Yes, I do know. Ned, let me help you. How much did you two drink?”

 

“Drink?” Peter asked, a confused smile on his face as his heart sank to his knees.

 

“Mhm, that’s what I said.” May helped Ned into the passenger seat and shut the door. She looked at Peter across the hood, eyebrows raised. Peter wanted to cry.

 

“Get in the car, hot shot.”

 

Peter nodded, crawling into the backseat. His head was swimming and he spread out on the seats after he buckled the seatbelt.

 

May was quiet for a few minutes.

 

“Peter?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Do you know if either of you said anything? About…Spider-Man?”

 

Peter hadn’t thought of that. Did they say anything? He felt his pulse thrumming in his neck against the seat cushion.

 

“I don’t think so?” His voice cracked.

 

“I hope not. This isn’t like you, Peter. I thought you knew better than this. Honestly, I did.”

 

May didn’t say anything for the rest of the way home. Peter wished she hand’t.

 

The next day was mostly Tylenol, water, lots of chores, and long stares of disappointment from May. And one round of vomiting. Ned was sent home that morning after May had called his parents. He and Peter shared a look of the deepest, most silent regret they’d ever known.

 

By the evening, when Peter was picking at his dinner and May was still mostly quiet, he couldn’t take it any longer.

 

“May, I’m so sorry. You’re right, I do know better. I was a total idiot, I just thought it looked like fun. But I didn’t think…we could have spilled everything about Spider-Man, and I didn’t even think about it. I’m really, really, sorry to disappoint you, though, more than anything else. I’m just— I’m sorry.”

 

May stopped eating, stared at Peter for a moment, then came around the table and hugged him. 

 

“I know, I know you’re sorry. Thank you for apologizing. I just want you to understand how dangerous this is…not just the secret, but drinking, and _underage_ drinking, honey, it could really have a lot of consequences far bigger than me finding out. And you’re terrible at hiding it, anyway, so there’s no telling what you’d get into if you really got in trouble. I’m glad your safe, but please, please, please don’t do this again. Will you promise me? At least until your 21?”

 

“Yeah, I promise, It was fun, but only for like an hour. The rest was pretty crappy, actually.”

 

May laughed. “Yeah, I remember that.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yes, and that’s all I’m going to say. Eat your dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> Haha thanks for reading, this definitely got a little long but I had fun writing it. They're such giant nerds. I love 'em.


End file.
